a ripped off title and a filthy notepad

in honour of Thoth 

anti-saint unJesus-like with 

winged feet you scrape my mind in

states of half-skulled intuition 

you filch my numbers     acausel warfare 

blessed digits become threats 

I fight nightly  and the full moon is like a sniper 

watching                                   waiting 

war has evolved and blinded the Earth

those who learn to see vanish into madness

we are so close to the trains now

and laughter ensues eating all warnings.